


The Impossible

by m0usielous1e



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Gen, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-16
Updated: 2016-11-16
Packaged: 2018-08-31 10:03:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8574040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/m0usielous1e/pseuds/m0usielous1e
Summary: An unexpected find reunites Michonne with her son, long thought dead, at the worst possible time.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is in my head because I've seen lots of AUs where Lori or Shane or both or other characters survive, but very rarely Andre. Hope I did the characters some justice.

It was by unspoken agreement that in the aftermath of Negan’s takeover, that the Alexandria Safe Zone was effectively closed to outsiders. Though Negan could, at any point, march in and claim their “shit”, so-to-speak, no one wanted the risk of inviting even more trouble into their home. Aaron _knew_ this. He was still theoretically in charge of recruitment after all, even after the Wolves and Negan, but no one had put up a sign declaring a ban. Rick would be furious, certainly, but this was a woman—albeit a veteran and amputee—with a young son, a boy no more than six years old. How could Aaron leave them out there with the dead, especially when the living were still far more dangerous?

Eugene was manning the gate when Aaron drove up in the woman’s SUV. He took one look inside at the three of them, and said to Aaron, “Fortune is on your side. Our fearless leader is out on a run for our evil overlord. You can take our guests to the First Lady, she is far more reasonable.”

“First Lady?” asked the woman, eyebrow raised.

“It’s a joke,” said Aaron as Eugene stepped back to let him pass. “Though not entirely inaccurate. Ultimately the decision on whether or not you stay depends on her and I doubt she would kick you two out.”

“I don’t want to go back out there,” said the little boy from his place in the backseat. Small and brown and shy, he was settled amongst their belongings in a position that told Aaron it was a regular occurrence. It was probably how his mother had managed to keep him alive out there for the past three years, though she had not managed to save his left arm. That he had survived that though, spoke volumes for his strength.

“You’re not. Like I said, our ‘First Lady’ is a reasonable person. And if we can’t accommodate you here, which we can, she would definitely find you a safe space elsewhere,” said Aaron, glancing back at the boy in the rear-view mirror.

“There are such things in this world?” asked the woman, Nadine, as Aaron parked the SUV in the line of them leading to the front gates. “Safe spaces? Every camp we’ve been in so far has been overrun. Every group we tried to join has fallen apart. Quite frankly, I agreed to come with you because you said you had medicine for Dre’s cold but if I don’t think you guys are safe, I’m sorry, but we’re gone.”

Aaron nodded at this. He could respect that and he did not blame her. He said, “Well we did have an incident with a herd last year but that was taken care of. You and your boy are as safe as you can be in this world.”

Nadine looked around them out the window at the towering steel walls and McMansion houses, the solar panels and small vegetable fields visible from their park and said, “Okay. Come on Dre.”

Rosita came up to them as they got out of the vehicle, Nadine carrying Dre as if the boy weighed no more than a pillow, even with his prosthetic limb. He was outgrowing that too, Aaron noted when Nadine set the boy down. Rosita lifted an eyebrow at the newcomers and said, “Weapons?”

“Nothing more than a handful of knives,” Aaron replied. 

“Good for you,” said Rosita, looking over Nadine. Then, as if sensing something from her stance, asked, “What division?”

“Rangers,” said Nadine with a smile that did not quite reach her eyes.

Aaron glanced up at her with a start and she said, “You didn’t ask. There weren’t a lot of us anyway and in this world some men take that as a challenge.”

Rosita nodded at this and said, “Come with me. Rick’s not here, but Michonne is the better person for this anyway.”

She turned to lead them just as Nadine sputtered, “Wait, ‘Michonne’? As in tall, athletic, darker complexioned than me, carries around a katana?”

Aaron and Rosita both turned to her now, and Aaron said, “Do you know her?”

Nadine stared at them both, wide-eyed, then glanced down at the boy beside her.

 

Michonne thought they had all agreed that they were no longer inviting people to the ASZ. It was just not a good idea anymore, or fair, not after Negan and the way he was forcing them to live. Her first thought when Rosita appeared the first time was that Aaron was really, really lucky that he had caught her on a good day. Those were few and far between, especially with Rick out on a run, but she had also just spent the morning listening to Judith “read” her a story and Carl had made lunch. It took every ounce of will to get her out of the house to go meet some strangers after that.

Then Rosita appeared a second time, practically running into her with a smile so wide her face was threatening to split in half. She started speaking before she stopped, but so rapidly, Michonne could not get a word to ask why nor understand what Rosita was trying to say. Rosita did not wait around to explain either, but just grabbed her arm and dragged her off behind her towards the gates.

The mystery was solved in a matter of minutes. Michonne stopped, frozen in shock, staring at the trio awaiting her with her mouth open and eyes wide. This could not be real. She had to be hallucinating.

The little boy, he looked just like Andre. He had the same medium brown complexion and dark eyes just like hers. Mike used to complain that she had been teaching their son her tricks for the way that he could never refuse anything that came with a puppy dog look from those eyes. The last time she had seen them, they had been filled with tears as Andre tearfully waved her goodbye for her run and Mike had turned the boy’s face away in his own anger. Those eyes could not be staring up at her now though, because her little boy was dead.

She glanced at the woman with him and recognised her instantly. Nadine had been brought to the camp by a veteran’s group evacuating a hospital. Nadine had just come back from a tour of duty that had cost her a limb and was still recovering from multiple surgeries when the world ended. Nadine, part-Kiowa or Sioux, Michonne could not remember exactly, had also not taken to her new state of affairs well though she and Michonne had gotten along okay when necessary. For one, Nadine never complained about Andre crying in the night when she chewed out their other neighbours for letting their kids play loudly. Michonne had thought this woman dead too. There was no way that Nadine could have survived. But here she was.

Michonne dropped to her knees and screamed. She could not breathe. The world had gone mad again like that night she ran into the burning camp to find blood and pain. This was not her little boy standing there in front of her. She had _buried_ what was left of him years ago. Her other little boy was in the house watching his baby sister and trying not to fret over his Dad’s decision to go on that run with Negan. What she was seeing now, this child who was staring back at her and sneaking glances at Nadine, did not make any sense. Michonne tried to speak but all that came out was another scream and then it just would not stop. She screamed until she was hoarse and then Rosita was there, pulling her into a hug and whispering in her ear, “It’s okay. Come on. It’s okay. This is real. It’s okay.”

When Michonne could not scream anymore she started to cry, great heaving sobs, as Rosita rocked her and tried to calm her down. Michonne looked back at the little boy. It was Andre, her precious little Peanut, now about six years old and alive and well, dressed in clothes one size too big but clean and slightly worn from constant use. But how could he be here? He was dead. His father and Uncle Terry had been too distracted by their own problems and weed to protect him from the walkers. How could he be standing here now staring at her? And then Carl demanded, “What the hell is going on?”

They all turned. He had come out of the house behind Michonne with his gun held loosely in one hand. At the sight of Michonne’s tear-streaked face, he lifted the gun to Nadine and asked, “Who are you? What have you done to Michonne?”

“No, wait!” said Michonne, lifting her hand to stop him, just as Andre said, “Mommy?”

Carl was so shocked he nearly dropped the gun in his hand. Michonne snapped her gaze back to Andre, then wiped her face and nodding, said, “Yes, Peanut, it’s me, Mommy.”

Andre glanced up at Nadine again, who nodded, and then he ran forward and into Michonne’s waiting arms. She hugged him to her and started bawling again. She could barely believe it. She could feel the warmth of his skin and his heartbeat against her chest, smell the sweat and mustiness of his clothing, hear the sound of his breathing and eventually his own cries as he remembered her. It was impossible, and yet here he was.

 

Rick knew something was wrong from the expression on Eugene’s face as he opened the gate. But before he could ask, Eugene said, “I don’t know what one says in situations like this, but I suppose congratulations are in order.”

Rick stared at him a moment, then glanced at Daryl, then back to Eugene and said, “What?”

Eugene, expression unchanged, said, “Michonne’s long-lost son has been brought to us.”

Rick could not get out of the car and over to the house fast enough. Michonne’s son was dead. Someone was playing games with his girlfriend and there was going to be hell to pay when he found out who.

Carl opened the front door before Rick could, looking as shocked as Rick felt but was otherwise unharmed. Then he heard the giggles.

Michonne was fine, smiling down at the two children at her side. On her right, under her arm was Judith bobbing back and forth as she pushed at a laughing, brown boy who looked too much like Michonne for it to be a coincidence, curled under his girlfriend’s left arm. Rick stepped into the room only as much as would allow Carl to close the door behind him, and stared at the trio.

The boy, Andre, looked a little too small for the age he should be, and his cheeks were hollow and goodness, he was missing an arm! How had someone so little survived that?  
Carl answered his unspoken question, “Her name is Nadine. She used to be at the camp that Michonne went to and she said she saved him just as the walls came down.”

“Who?” asked Rick, then he looked again and finally noticed the woman seated across from Michonne. 

She caught his gaze, and stood. A tall, athletic woman with a prosthetic arm, she had an olive complexion and long black braid that trailed to her waist. Something about her stance screamed soldier, and Rick found that he had straightened almost as soon as she did. That was when Michonne noticed, at last, and she turned to him with a shy but brilliant smile that set his heart racing just as the woman said, “Nadine. And you must be Mr Grimes. Michonne said that you would not mind.”

Rick tore his gaze away from the pure happiness on Michonne’s face, he doubted he had ever seen that look before, and said, “You can call me Rick. How…I’m sorry, thank you. Thank you for taking care of him and bringing him here.”

Nadine turned to smile down at Andre still curled against his mother, but peering over her arm up at Rick. His expression was blank, considering, a mirror of his mother’s when Rick first met her. This was _definitely_ Michonne’s son. Nadine said, “He’s a strong kid. I didn’t think he would make it myself but he proved me wrong and helped me save myself.”  
“You took off his arm?” asked Rick, torn between horror and awe.

The prosthetic was a crude thing, more the impression of an arm than the actual thing, and hung heavily at the boy’s side. Judith climbed over Michonne’s lap to touch it now that the others weren’t looking. Nadine said, “It happened while I was trying to save him. Most terrible thing I’d ever done at that point. It’s a good thing I’m not a mother because I don’t think I would have been able to do it.”

“You did what I couldn’t. You kept him safe and healthy. You did a very good job for someone who is not a mother,” said Michonne, a hint of humour in her voice.

Rick looked the woman over again and asked, “How many walkers have you killed?”

Nadine turned back to him, blinked, and then replied, “Not enough. Too many. They were people once, you know, and it got harder when I figured out that you turn when you die, no matter how you die.”

Rick nodded at this, feeling both Michonne’s and Carl’s gazes on him, and asked, “How many people have you killed?”

Nadine’s eyes narrowed in suspicion and she said, “Not enough. Too many. Before and after.”

“Why?” asked Rick, staring her in the eyes.

Nadine took a deep breath, exhaled heavily and said, “Before, they were trying to kill me. You don’t ‘liberate’ a people without killing a few of them. I carry that still. After…I could not let them kill me or Dre. Dre had already lost his father and his uncle, I knew his mother had to be out there somewhere, so I was going to make damn sure he saw her again…" She took another breath and said, “That was a test.”

Rick smiled and said, “As far as I’m concerned, you passed when you brought Andre home to his mother.”

“But you can never be too careful. Not anymore,” said Nadine, nodding approvingly.

“No, you can’t,” said Rick. “As I’m sure you know by now, this is my family here. And not just in this house. We look out for each other.” He glanced at Michonne then, who was still smiling but nodded solemnly. He turned back to Nadine and said, “In the interest of that, I should tell you that our situation is not perfect. We have enemies. A man, Negan, and his group that calls themselves the Saviours.” He stopped when Nadine’s eyes went wide, fingers twitching. Then he cocked his head and asked, “You’ve heard of him?”

Nadine turned a wide, slightly terrified gaze to Andre and said, “We’ve heard of him. Saw the aftermath of his work. He took down the last camp we were in. They fought back. I slipped out with Dre as soon as the coast was clear. Don’t tell me he’s got to you too?”

Rick said nothing. Nadine stared at him for nearly a full minute and then said, “Jesus. I’ve had enough of men like him. If I had my unit, he would be so gone.”

Rick considered a list of responses and then said, “That’s good to hear.” Her eyes widened slightly.

Rick exhaled, relaxing and asked, “Have you had a tour?”

“Ah, no,” said Carl, beside them, finally speaking. Rick was surprised that his son had been so quiet. “We’ve been here since she came in with Dre.”

Rick lifted an eyebrow at the familiarity, but then Michonne walked over to join them with Judith on her hip and Andre clinging to her leg. She had one hand around Judith and the other on the boy’s back. Andre stared up at Rick, gaze slightly narrowed, expression hard. He might have accepted Carl and Judith, but it was clear that Rick was not going to get a free pass.

“This is Andre, Rick,” said Michonne, smiling down at the boy. “My son.”

Rick went to a knee before the boy, not a particularly wise move of late given age and the hard life they had all been living, but necessary. The boy’s wariness made Rick want to reassure him. Andre’s expression did not change. Rick said, “Hello Andre. I’m Rick, Carl and Judith’s father. It’s nice to finally meet you.” He extended a hand to the boy.

Andre glanced at his hand, then his face, down to the gun that Rick still wore on his hip, and shrank back against his mother. 

Rick tried not to be disappointed, even as Michonne said, “Hey now, don’t be rude. Introduce yourself.”

“You just did,” said Andre, turning to look up at his mother. He did not remove the arms wrapped around her leg. At her pointed look, he dropped his gaze to the floor but still said nothing.

Rick shifted to stand, already protesting, “It’s okay. He does not know me.”

“Well, yeah, maybe…” said Michonne, brow furrowed as she looked down at her son.

Nadine said, “I did my best to keep him out of trouble. I was not always successful. There are two kinds of people who made it this far and a lot of them weren’t good. I’m sorry about that.”

“No, thank you. You have nothing to apologise for. I cannot thank you enough,” said Michonne.

“No,” said Rick, on his feet again. “You kept him alive. There’s a lot that I would have preferred to keep Carl from and just couldn’t. This world does not allow that, not for long anyway.”

“Says the man who managed to keep a baby alive,” said Nadine, looking at Judith. The little girl grinned at Nadine and threw her head back with a laugh so that Michonne had to grab her.

“Not without help,” said Rick, glancing at Michonne. He would never forget the sight of her limping towards the prison fence with a basket of baby formula in one hand and her katana on her back. Snuggling Judith, she did not notice. 

Then Judith looked down at the boy, pointed and squealed, “Dre!”

All gazes turned to her now. She leaned forward until Michonne had to adjust her grip on the child again, and repeated, “Dre!”

Andre looked up at her. She gave him a delighted, wet grin, turned and reached for Rick, “Dada!”

As soon as she changed hands, she looked between Rick and Andre and said, “Dre!”

Rick considered and discarded the notion of getting back on his knee and said, “Yes, we’ve met. He won’t talk to me though. Smart boy. He does not know me yet.”

Judith started babbling, her speech a stream of unintelligible gibberish but Rick got the sense that she was recounting the events of the day. It was something she did every time she was away from him for any length of time.

Nadine said, “Well, um, I think I should go for that tour. Check out one of the other houses you have available.”

“You can stay here,” said Michonne just as Andre said, “No!” He detached himself from his mother to run to Nadine, insisting, “Don’t leave me, Aunty Nady!”

Nadine reddened and turned to Michonne who was staring at her son, expression blank. She had not said a word but Rick knew she was feeling it. He shifted Judith to his other arm and went back to his knee to address the boy. “Andre,” he said.

The boy started, then turned around. Rick tried to ignore the surge of discomfort at the reaction, and said, “She’s not going anywhere. See this big house?”

Andre stared at him for a beat, then glanced around and nodded. Rick smiled and said, “Well this is my house. I live here with your mother and Carl and Judith but there is plenty of room for two more.”

Andre stared at him for a moment longer, then around at the others and released Nadine to return to his mother. He pressed at her side until she lifted him, swinging him into her arms as if he weighed no more than Judith did. The blank expression fell away from Michonne’s face and then she dipped her head to her son’s neck and breathed in the scent of him. Rick did not think she was conscious of the action. He turned to Nadine and said, “There is room. We had…well, there’s room. You can have Michonne’s old one.”

At that, Nadine glanced over at Michonne then back at him. Rick waited. Finally, she said, “Great. I heard you people have hot water here.”


End file.
